


Longing

by BuckyCapRox



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood, Drowning, Gen, M/M, No Character Death, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyCapRox/pseuds/BuckyCapRox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of a battle, Bucky is bleeding out, broken, and alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place not long after Civil War, people still have strong feelings.

Leaning back against the remains of a brick wall, blood oozed, dripping from a metal bar embedded up under his ribs. Bucky gripped the slippery shaft, slowly slid it down and out. He dropped it to the pavement with a clatter. 

It had happened so quickly. Perched in his rooftop sniper position, the explosion had thrown him into the air. Stunned but conscious he plummeted amidst brick and twisted iron, saw the security fence below. Razor wire ran across the top. Spaced upright bars held the sharp strands in place. He tried to twist midair, but there wasn’t time. A bar pierced through a gap under Bucky’s armor. The metal snapped as he crushed the fencing with his heavy hard fall. 

Now, with this gaping hole in his gut, he was trying to make a strategic retreat. He was no good to anyone in this fight. Gripping the wound tight, he tried to keep it closed, keep everything in. Blood dripped from between his fingers and from his nose. Pausing, he spit blood onto the pavement. He could feel it bubbling with every breath.

It was only two months ago that T’Challa’s scientists discovered a way to neutralize the triggers. 

An hour before Bucky was put into cryo, he pulled T’Challa aside. Quietly, he asked T’Challa not to tell Steve if they woke him. Barely six months later, Bucky woke to a clear his head, and a new arm. 

Steve had been busy while Bucky was in cryo. He started up a new group called the Secret Avengers. They saved the world from destruction seven times in six months. The average person never even knew it.

Steve had moved on without him. Steve had a good team. They watched his back. 

Bucky didn’t want Steve to feel an obligation to try to shoehorn him into his team. It wouldn’t work. It hadn’t worked before. Bucky would only bring the team trouble. 

Sam was a good man. He would keep Steve safe. 

Bucky disappeared off the grid for a while, but he had a few gifts of Wakandan tech. He used them to keep an eye on the Secret Avengers. 

This was Bucky’s third time discreetly providing cover. Barton spotted him the last time. He didn’t give Bucky’s away, just gave him the finger after the dust cleared. Steve was none the wiser. 

This battle was different. It would be in the news. A wave of aliens came through a rift in the sky. From the chatter on the Wakandan monitor, the Secret Avengers had about a two hour heads up. The remains of SHIELD showed up, and the official Avengers put aside their differences for this one. Stark zoomed though the sky alongside Falcon, and lightning was hitting the aliens where it counted. 

A lot of muscle was involved in this fight. Bucky thought about sitting it out. He would just move in close enough to keep an eye on Steve. Once he was there, the odds didn’t actually look in Earth’s favor, and Bucky began shooting Aliens out of the sky. 

Muscle memory was a hell of a thing. Probably how Hydra got such a high kill rate out of him when his brain was just scrambled mush. He remembered the light feeling after the mind wipes. Nothing mattered but the mission. 

Pop pop pop. With every squeeze, an alien dropped to the ground. Bucky slid back into old habits. His mind was clear. Soon, there were almost no aliens left to shoot. Waiting, watching, Bucky realized it might be a good time to leave before Steve realized he was here. He carefully stood, looked at the destruction in the city around him. 

The explosion happened so suddenly, Bucky never even saw an alien take the shot. There were only friendly forces within range. The next thing Bucky knew, he was hurtling through the air to smash into the ground in a pile of twisted metal. A rod embedded deep under his ribs. 

Trying to get to his feet, he swayed and went to a knee. Slowly he pulled himself back up, stumbled along, hotwired a car to flee the carnage. On the deserted roads, he sped to a safe house deep in the nearby forest. He tumbled from the car, almost had to crawl towards the house. He fumbled the keys when he unlocked the door, pushed into the room and stumbled towards an emergency beacon. 

He should have brought it on the mission. It was a gift in amongst some Wakandan tech. They said if he ever needed anything to just send a message, they would help. Bucky kept it in his bag. He never used it. Now, he dumped the bag on the floor looking for the beacon. 

He sat on the floor, used numb fingers to start a message. Clumsily typed out ‘hurt, sens hel’ before everything grew black and he passed out. The beacon tumbled from his grip. 

It was dark when he hazily woke in a pool of his own blood. Stretched his fingers to reach the beacon. It lie inches from his hand, but it might as well be a mile away. His legs moved back and forth in a slow ineffectual parody of crawling. 

The metal left hand was clamped to his abdomen. Thankfully, even when unconscious, the grip never eased. Blood seeped between his fingers, bubbled into his lungs. He was drowning. Barely able to get any air at all on each inhale. Blood drooled from his lips, clogged his windpipe. 

He gave another kick to try to reach the beacon, then dropped his forehead to the carpet. 

Alone in the dark on a filthy carpet, he realized these were his last moments. 

There was a creak beside him. Something shifted, and the old leather armchair made another noise. Bucky rolled his head, angled it towards the chair. He had a face full of carpet, could almost see the carved legs. Something metal glimmered in the dim blue light. Bucky couldn’t figure out what he was seeing. 

A light clicked on. Bucky blinked, suddenly blinded, rolled his head a bit more. A gleaming expressionless mask silently watched him. Stark fully armored, sat in the chair.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda grim, but nobody dies in this story.

Staring into the shadows, Bucky was able to make out a sooty burn marring the side of Stark’s golden mask. Scorch marks dotted the chest plate. Motionless, the suit lounged in the chair.

“You are a hard man to find.” Said a cold disembodied voice.

Silence filled the space between them, stretched out like taffy for minutes, or seconds, Bucky couldn’t be sure. The gurgle of his own bubbling breath was the only sound he heard. Forehead still resting against the carpet, Bucky closed his eyes. He struggled drag in even a shallow breath. Tried to hold himself together. It was a losing battle, he could feel himself drifting. 

Stark began again. “What the hell did Hydra turn you into? You aren’t even human anymore, are you? You fell like a stone, smeared the pavement, then left a dripping trail to the parking lot. I was beginning to worry you’d die before I caught you. I think there might be more blood pooled on the floorboards of your stolen ride, than in your Teflon veins. Lucky me. I got here right as you lie drowning on some poor schmuck’s cheap rug. How long do you think you have left? Minutes? Seconds? You’re the expert here.”

Tony gave a two second pause, then continued. “Okay, I’ll give you a choice. I can rescue your worthless ass, and you can spend the rest of your life in a cage. However unnaturally long that might be… Or, you can die here, face down on a filthy carpet in a pool of your own blood.”

He paused again. “waiting…” he announced.

Bucky licked his lips, knew he was drooling blood steadily. Tried to pull his hand back to wipe at it, but his hand just twitched. There was no strength left in him. It had all bled out onto the carpet. He mouthed “Here. Leave me here.” almost no sound came out. Barely any air either. He didn’t want to be caged up again. Having already caught a glimpse of the modern world’s version of justice, he would rather be dead.

This was the end. He wondered if God would forgive his sins. Was he destined for hell? Bucky was convinced he was, but he begged to be wrong. Now that the moment was here, he begged Mary and all the Saints to intervene for him. Have mercy on a man who has already been through hell. 

“Are you praying!” he heard close by. Stark had moved.

Startled, Bucky didn’t remember closing his eyes, but Stark grabbed him by the shoulder. Gave him a shake that made a wave of fire roll from his stomach to his toes. Bucky choked and gasped. Overwhelming pain giving him the strength to clutch at the front of his own chest. His heart stuttered and jerked. There just wasn’t enough blood to push.

Eyes open, everything began to gray around the edges. In the glossy reflection of Stark’s mask, he blurrily saw his own bruised, bloodied face looking back at him. Praying to finally have peace, softly he begged God, “God, I’m sorry…” His eyes began to roll into his head, air stopped coming in. Eyes dimming, he heard gurgling, felt himself being roughly handled, before he felt another blossom of bright pain and rushing air.

The next thing he knew, he was floating. Bright light cut through his crusted eyelids. He pried his dry eyes open, tried to see. Found endless white, a mask over his nose and mouth, each breath fogging the clear plastic. Steve sat slouched beside him, shirt white, skin pale, eyes red and wet. 

Noticing a change, Steve looked up said “Buck?” then leaned forward, openly weeping now. “Buck? Why didn’t you tell me you were out of cryo? You almost got yourself killed.” Steve paused, choked up, swiped at his eyes with his thumbs. Bucky felt his own eyes get wet. One tear rolled under his oxygen mask, another towards his side-burn. Sam pushed through the door with two coffees. 

The floating feeling was making him drift, close his eyes and lift up towards the ceiling, while the room started to fade. He tried to take a breath. Wheezed, while another tear seeped under the mask.

“Steve, stop.” he distantly heard Sam’s voice “Go in the hall. Get some air.” 

He could hear Steve close the door, Sam did something to the IV and Bucky floated away.

The next time he came around, Sam was in the chair. Bucky blinked over at him, watched him swipe through pages on his tablet and sip at his cold coffee. 

Trying to swallow, Bucky’s throat clicked, felt dry. The mask was rubbing at the top of his nose. He tried to push it up, off, anything. But he couldn’t manage more than a twitch of the fingers. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. 

Licking his lips to try again, he whispered, “Sam.” The hiss and hum of the machines drowned him out. Sam hadn’t even looked up. Closing his eyes, Bucky drifted again, worn out from trying to speak. Soon, the drugs pulled him back under.

Awareness came to him the next time with a startling clarity. He was off the pain drugs, and every breath felt like knives. Reaching up, he pushed the mask to his forehead. The band snapped as he shoved the mask. Sam jumped in to save it. “Hey! No. Leave that on. You definitely still need that.” Sam’s hand grabbed at the mask, putting it back over Bucky’s mouth. Instinctively, Bucky pushed Sam back. The mask clattered free, dangling from the bed railing, as Sam toppled into a plastic chair. 

Trying to sit up, Bucky clutched his abdomen. Felt the fire of his injuries flare to life. He opened his mouth to take a deep breath. Was left panting, unable to get air, clutching at the gown over his chest.

“I told you man.” Sam started “You still need that.” Then he put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, tried to get him to lie back.

Falling back onto the bed, Bucky stared at the ceiling, willing himself not to panic, to slow his breathing. Licking his lips, he tried to swallow. 

“Suck on some ice.” Sam was there with a spoon. Reaching out, Bucky took the spoon, spilled the ice on the covers. Sam put his hand on Bucky’s, eased the spoon from him. Trying again, Sam lifted the spoon “Let me do it.” Sam said, “Unless, you want to wear it.”

The spoon came to Bucky’s lips and he accepted the ice. 

“Just let it melt in your mouth.” Sam said, but Bucky had already swallowed it, reached out to take the whole cup. Sam was surprisingly fast. Pulled it out of reach, held it high. “Are you going to listen to me at all?” he groused.

Bucky’s hand dropped back to the covers. Sam picked up the discarded mask, held it over Bucky’s face while he fumbled with the snapped elastic. Finally, he gave up. Grabbed Bucky’s hand and held it to the front of the mask. 

“Hold that there.” 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky said. A tear slipped out. It surprised him, and he used his thumb to brush it away. 

“I don’t get any love?” Sam mocked with a quirked half smile.

Bucky repeated, “Where’s Steve?”

Sam’s smile fell, “I don’t think you two are in any condition to be around each other.” 

“I want to see him.” Bucky insisted.

“You should be dead. You know that right? When Stark brought you here, you weren’t breathing. You couldn’t because you had two collapsed lungs, and everything in your guts was ripped up, man. You had lost more blood than possible. Even your thick skull is cracked. I don’t know how super soldier healing pulled you back from dead. But it did, and now you have to rest.” 

“I need to see him.” Bucky insisted. He was ready to press the issue, but then there Steve was in the doorway. 

“I’m right here Buck.” Steve said, eyes bright with unshed tears. His face was still pale, and there were rings under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. 

“I’m sorry Steve.” Bucky said. 

Steve nodded, swiped at his eyes, moved into the room. Bucky let go of the mask and it tumbled into his lap. Held his hand out to Steve who took it while picking up the mask, holding it to Bucky’s face. 

“I’ve got you.” Steve said, while lowering himself into the chair beside the bed. 

Seconds later, Sam returned with a doctor, who poked, prodded, and asked a bunch of questions. By the time she was done, Bucky was exhausted. 

His eyes were closing, fluttering. Blearily he asked “Why’d he do it?”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Stark.” Bucky clarified. “Why’d he save me?”

“It’s over, Buck. Tony got what he wanted.” Steve said quietly, “Just get some sleep.” he rubbed his thumb over Bucky’s knuckles and before long Bucky closed his eyes and slept. 

Sam nodded at Steve from the doorway, then slowly turned from the room. His escort waited in the hall. Walked him back to his cell. Clouds had rolled in. The wind lashed a mountainous wave against the Raft. Sam’s cell was unnaturally quiet, the crash and rumble of the storm silenced by the prison’s thick steel walls.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't let this go, so I added another chapter. Less dark.

In the days that followed, Bucky healed. On the mend, he was medically cleared, then removed in shackles. Only a few cells away, he might as well have been on the moon. 

Someone tapped the mike in the control room, making the cell walls thump. All three prisoners sat up in their cells, looking around. 

“Rise and shine.” a voice announced, “Man, I come down for a prison break and I catch all the prisoners napping.” as he spoke, the glowing bars on the doors darkened and slid opened. “You three have exactly 87 seconds to get to the quinjet.” The voice sounded suspiciously like Tony Stark.

Sam and Steve immediately rushed out the doors. They paused in the hall waiting as Bucky hesitated just inside his cell. 

“Come on, Buck.” Steve dashed back. Grabbing him by the elbow, Steve pulled him along. Once outside the cell, Bucky didn’t really need pulling. But, Steve’s hand stayed on his elbow just the same. 

In the main hall they stepped over unconscious guards, heading for the landing pad. Beside an open quinjet ramp, stood Tony in his armor. Bucky paused again, pulling himself free of Steve’s grip. 

Visor flipping up, Tony said “No time to gab. Hop on board.” Turning back he added, “I was never here,” before roaring into the sky.

Once the quinjet was hundreds of miles away, Steve broke the radio silence “Tony, thank you for this.” he said to the tiny red dot trailing them. 

“Who’s Tony?” Tony grumbled “Steve, you are terrible at this ‘I was never here’ Secret Society stuff.” He flew closer, right past the cockpit. “Your new club has ‘Secret’ in it’s name. They should revoke your membership card.”

“Sorry. I just wanted to thank you.” Steve apologized.

“You don’t have to thank me. In case you had forgotten, I was the one who had your Buddy locked up in the first place. You two dummies were just determined to follow him onto the raft. There was no need for heartfelt goodbyes. He would have lived. I am ninety-five percent certain of that. ” Tony continued, “But, back to the subject to super spy’s. Of which, you three are not in the club. Do you know who is great at being a super spy? Romanoff. She has tricked me at least a half dozen times. Not just talking about betrayal. I mean spy who got inside my security and reprogrammed my BARF machine.”

“She put me into a room with your Manchurian candidate, during his reprogramming phase. She told me that I couldn’t last watching Barnes get the memory centers of his brain completely turned to soup. It must be super healing, because I’m surprised the guy has any voice at all with all the screaming.”

“So anyways, needless to say, I lost the bet. Made it five minutes before I called it quits. My ears were starting to bleed. The recording said it would go on for another horrifying hour.”

“Romanoff frighteningly showed me the light that Barnes may not have been in control.” 

Everyone went quiet at the admission, Steve and Sam watched the controls while Bucky stared out the window. Tony pulled ahead enough that the only thing Steve could make out the glowing red of his jets.

A while later they finally touched down at a facility hidden in the mountains of North Carolina. Everyone stepped off the quinjet and paused to look around. They breathed deep, taking in the cool breeze and leafy green view. 

Tony strode up to Steve, lifted his mask. “Okay Spangles. We know he killed my Mom with his own hands. We also know I may have had anger issues and acted impulsively. Justified anger issues, but…” Tony pointedly looked Steve in the eyes, never even acknowledging Bucky. “But, I can be magnanimous and acknowledge that maybe Barnes was not to blame for my parents…”

“Hydra was.” Steve cut in.

“Okay. So, you are just going to interrupt my heart felt apology concerning the single most tragic event in my life.” Tony groused.

“Hydra killed them, Tony.” Steve firmly repeated.

“Yes, Hydra killed them. But, they used Barnes’ hands, Barnes’ face.” Tony shouted, pointing at Bucky who stepped back. “Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t going to go there.” Tony took a deep breath. “Hydra cells have been popping up like mushrooms after a good rain. If you happened to want to help me get some revenge on the people who..”

“We do.” Bucky piped up, stepping forward. He was still blocked by Steve’s bulk.

“Buck, you don’t have to…” Steve held out his hand, shielding Bucky from Tony and the very idea of fighting.

Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s arm. “Steve, I tried hiding. I tried to end the cycle. But the truth is, that they are always going to find me. We are the best chance everyone has to fight Hydra.”

Steve turned to face Bucky, grabbing his hand. “You’ve done enough.”

Ignoring Steve, Bucky glanced over at Sam “If you want to sit this one out, no one would blame you.”

“If I sat this out, who would keep you two out of trouble?”

Tony clapped his gloves together “So it’s settled. Meetings at eight a.m. That’s two hours from now, if Wilson needs to get some shut eye. Fury and Hill will be waiting at the main conference room up the ridge with the latest intel.” As he walked away he pointed to a low building to the left. “Private apartments are in there. Names are on the doors.” He gave a wave. “You three might want to wash the smell of prison off, before anyone has to sit next to you. And use the good soap, something less institutional.”


End file.
